Zombie Day Care (16 page)

“
No, we can’t kill him. Not now. He’s just a zombie, we can outsmart him. Rudy suit up, were going down.”

His friends chin dropped into his chest with a heavy sigh.

Little Weege grabbed him by his lab coat.

“
I have an idea! Maybe we just need more zombie dew?”

They all looked at each other, Rudy’s eyes holding the most interest, staring at him for the chance.

“
Hmmm,” Henry said, rubbing his chin. “Maybe he hasn’t been fed, maybe Jimmy starved him. Do we have any?”

Rudy’s voice was flat.

“
It’s all downstairs.”

They all looked down over the rail as if it were an abyss. Rudy snapped his fingers.

“
Wait a minute,” he said, running over to Ralph’s station. He picked up his red 64 ounce Big Chug cup and said, “It’s still got over half a tank. Maybe more …” He shook another half dozen empty cups setting on the desk. “Nope, all gone.”

Henry took the cup and folded its waxy top closed. Standing by the rail of the catwalk, he leaned over the ladder chute, eyeing the floor twenty feet below. The catwalk was shaking beneath his feet as Louie pounded away. He held the cup over the rail as his friends tried to guide his aim.

“
A little further,” Rudy said.

“
Back to the left,” said Weege.

“
No—up to the right.”

He glared at them, took simple aim and dropped it.

Plop!

The cup landed flush on its bottom and they could see liquid splashing up and out, dripping down the cups side. The top had flipped open, but it was still upright.

“
Great shot Bawk!” Rudy said.

Now they waited and the pounding still came, second after second, minute after … it stopped. Something was climbing back down the ladder and they saw Louie fall to the ground with a thud. The boy was on his knees snorting the air.

“
Wow, he’s sniffing.” Henry felt an odd sense of delight.

The boy began licking the drops off the colorful mat, and he snatched up the cup. Louie opened his mouth, wide like a bass, bringing a gasp from his audience, then stuffed the cup inside and chomped down with a squish. Henry could hear his heart thumping inside his chest. They all shouted as Louie began walking around; a good bit slower than before, his hunger seemed to be satisfied.

“
Yeah Louie!” Rudy said.

“
Don’t get too excited. We don’t know how long this will last,” Henry said. “Wake up Tori. We have to get out of here. I’m going for more dew,” he said.

“
I’m going too,” he felt a delicate hand on his shoulder. It was Weege.

“
Thanks Weege, but I’ve seen you run,” he patted the man on the head, “a one-legged zombie could catch you.”

Rudy piped in.

“
If a clam could run, then that’s what it looks like when you run.” They all let out an awkward laugh, but the room felt empty.

“
Watch my back,” he said, heading across the catwalks, opening another hatch, his heart racing. He was almost to the bottom when he realized he forgot his suit.
Crap!
He moved faster, dropping down like a cat, forgetting his swollen ankle and busted toes, falling to the floor.

“
Ow!” he cried, momentarily forgetting where he was.

He staggered up, turning around. He didn’t see or hear the zombie boy. He crept for the storage room, opened the door and headed inside. He grabbed a few bottles of the zombie dew from the shelves and twisted off a few caps. He grabbed a small bowl.
I’ve just got to lure him into a cell and we can get out of here.

“
Piece of cake,” he said.

As he turned to leave there was a barrel of a shotgun pointed in his face.

“
Not so fast … brother.”

Jimmy had on a full anti-zombie suit and a shaking gun in his hands.

“
So Henry, you think you figured a way out. I don’t think so. Drop the dew!”

Henry could smell rotten teeth and alcohol coming from the face of the mesh mask. He almost gagged. His cranked up brother was up to something he couldn’t begin to imagine. He set down the drinks, palms up, praying his fool of a brother wouldn’t pull the trigger. The shotgun was different from the one he left behind, jamming the door. Jimmy had come prepared.

He tried to sound calm, “What’s going on Jimmy? Why are you doing this?”

“
Shut up!”

He saw his friends looking down at him in horror, and he saw Louie coming his way. His brother seemed uncertain and tore off his mask, getting a better look around. Louie had moved on. He looked at his brothers distorted face; dried blood covered the edges of his nose and descended down over his puffy lips. Jimmy’s head was greasy, flaked, and his pupils were like black marbles.

“
I’ll do the talking brother! Tell your stooges to come down here, or I’ll blow a hole in you!” Jimmy lowered the weapon on his gut.

“
Jimmy, listen to me. Louie might attack any minute. We have to leave. Where is Dad?”

His brothers eyes lit up, his face full of panic and regret. Henry knew at that moment Stanley was dead. It made him angry, angrier than he had ever been.

“
Ole Stan was shot! It was an accident! Mom did it!” Confusion seemed to mix with fear in Jimmy’s eyes, but they regained their wicked intent.

“
Stan’s serum is mine! I’ll be saving the world, just like Nate McDaniel, and you won’t stop me!” His shrill voice resounded from the hard walls of the room. It caught everyone’s attention, including the creepy boy who was coming their way.

“
Watch out Jimmy!”

His brother turned just in time to see the boy clutching at his back.

KA-BOOM!

It sounded like a cannon went off inside of the facility as it blasted into the floor. Louie ran, wailing like a frightened swine. Henry leapt onto his brother back and drove him to the floor. Without even realizing it, he had his hands around his brother’s neck, squeezing his eyes from the sockets. His brother, all of his life, couldn’t muster a sound as his tongue strained from his mouth. The word
please
, seemed to escape from Jimmy’s lips, as reason somehow overcame Henry’s animal instinct to kill. He pulled back his arm and punched his brother in the face with a powerful smack, stinging his hand. He did it a few more times and Jimmy lay out cold.

Henry had forgotten everything at that moment as he fought for his breath. Someone was screaming and someone else was approaching. He dived for the shotgun, whirled around and blasted it in the air. The boy crouched down, moaning like a frightened animal and came his way again, nightmarish and unyielding. Henry remembered Louie tearing apart the rubber ball. His legs turned numb.

He let another blast go into one of the television screens. The boy didn’t crouch this time as he came on, an angry look in his gothic face.
He doesn’t like the sound.
He didn’t have a choice now, it was him or Louie. The zombie boy crept forward, hands clutching, as Henry lowered the barrel at the boy’s face.
Sorry Louie.
He pulled the trigger.
Click! — Crap!
He threw the gun at the boy and ran for the drinks. Louie picked up the gun and beat it on the ground, bending the barrel. Henry saw the bottles on the floor, he could hear voices from above telling him to run and he dared not look back. He jumped over his prone brother, tripped over something and fell flat as a stone. Someone had his leg.
Louie!
He turned back he saw his brother’s pummeled face.

He kicked away, stretching for a bottle of the juice. An open bottle was just inches from his grasp. He looked back and saw Louie coming back their way.

“
Jimmy let go! He’s coming!”

His brother looked back, still determined to hold him fast. “I’ve got a suit, you don’t brother. He’s gonna eat your brains—not mine!”

There was no time. Henry drew his leg back and kicked Jimmy hard in the nose with a loud crack. He was free, low crawling back for the bottle, grabbing it in his hand. He tossed it like a grenade into the charging boy’s path. A lanky hand snatched the bottle from the air, his brother’s beady red eyes intent to reverse his plan. He watched as his brother drew his arm back, liquid sloshing on his suit. Louie crashed into him with his full weight. The drink spilt all over both of them as they thrashed over the bottle.

“
Get off me! Get off me!”

Jimmy screamed and kicked, fighting to free himself from the zombie. The struggle was violent and fast. Henry didn’t know what to do. Jimmy faded under the boy’s power, trying to crawl away. Louie now clutched the bottle, stuffing it in his throat, sucking the liquid deep inside his belly.

“
No! NOOO!” Jimmy screamed, holding a bloody gash where his ear had been bitten off.

Jimmy ran wailing from room and through the security door. Louie was walking listlessly around the room, ignoring several open bottles on the floor. Henry’s friends were staring at him in awe from above. Tori stood on weakened legs supported by his friends.

“
Come on, we’ve got to go!” he said, waving for them to come down.

CHAPTER 32

Jimmy’s blood was turning cold, sweeping through him like a fever, and his vision became obscured. Clutching the gash where his ear had been, he screamed all the way down the corridor and ducked into the security room.

The monitors were blurry as he tried to locate his brother. He wanted to shut them back inside, just like before. His fingers were numb and he couldn’t find the keys as he slammed down the keyboard. He grabbed the briefcase, felt for the latches and tore them open. He had the syringe in hand and jabbed it into one of the corks of the XT Serum. Drawing out every drop he could, he jammed the long needle deep into his neck and plunged the fluid in, screaming in agony. He fell down, crushing the flask.

His heart pounded with a rush of adrenaline as he lay on the floor, in agony. His veins from head to toe were streams of electric. He lay still one long moment. His vision began to return, but his limbs became stiff and strong. He groaned, rising from the floor, shoved everything he needed in the case and latched it away. He saw a glimpse of himself reflecting off the stainless steel walls. He was tall and rangy, with a busted nose, bloody chin and rising blue veins. He licked his lips and rubbed his face. If this is what being undead felt like, it felt pretty good. It felt great. But how long would it last? He would worry about that later.

He headed toward the back security door on legs of steel. He scanned his card and went out into the driving rain. He couldn’t feel the wind or hail tearing into his face. A tree had fallen nearby, crushing the chain link fence before him. He could see a swarm of black vehicles blocked by another tree in the distance. Armed men in black were swarming out and heading inside. He had to run and hide. Or did he? He hid in the darkness of the storm as they all passed by. A lone man stood outside in the rain, watching the vehicles, somehow smoking a cigarette. Jimmy fought the urge to eat the man whole as he snuck behind him.

The man turned on him, shotgun level at his head. He was small, wearing dark sunglasses, with a black moustache and jutting lower lip. The man’s southern voice was deep as a river.

“
Whatcha doin’ zombie?”

“
I’m not a zombie! I’m a man … Jimmy!” he shouted.

“
You sure look like a zombie!”

Something sounded familiar about the man. The voice on the phone—his contact? Was that him? He recalled something.

“
I’m Jimmy Bawkula. JB 111.”

The man gave him a curious look and lowered his gun.

“
Is that the XT Serum in the case Jimmy?”

Jimmy thought he was smiling when he said it.

“
Everything you asked for.”

The man shouldered his shotgun and held out his hands. He handed over the case and watched the man open it. The notes, tapes and vials were all there.

“
Where’s the other flask? Were their two?”

“
The other one is in me. I got bitten,” he pointed at his bloody earhole, “so I injected myself.”

The man closed back the brief case.

“
Is that so? How do you feel?”

“
Like a million dollars! The serum works!”

He knew he was smiling. His reward was on the way.

“
That’s good to know. Fascinating … my boss will love that.”

“
Great!”

The small man had a half-smile, half-sneer on his face and his voice changed to ice water.

“
Well Jimmy … you don’t look like a million dollars.”

He managed to laugh and shrug.

“
Well, I guess I don’t.”

“
No boy … you look like a zombie.”

Jimmy watched in slow motion as the man procured a semi-automatic pistol from thin air and pointed it at his head. He saw the fires of Hell when it exploded in his face.

Epilogue

It was a special night at the campfire as people of all ages were gathered around an older man with an excited face and graying beard. Fathers, sons, mothers, daughters and cousins shared hotdogs, smores, hot cocoa and beer, as the owls hooted and the tree frogs croaked. Everyone at the campsite was hanging on the man’s every word. His voice was deep, melodious, drawing in all ears over the span of the past few hours. He rubbed his calloused hands together as he continued, while another man dropped another log on the blazing fire.